Aight son, be ready for mah cut, nahmean. Here goes: nigga, I gots me a glock be ready tuh dive coz imma find yuh, ain't afraid of yuh knife gots em ar-15's, ak-47's all cocked n' ready who yuh think yuh be nigga, slim shady? marshall, yuh ain't no nigga from da ghetto get real son, yuh can't even spell potato yuh a thug? Bitch please, yuh sound lahk a wanksta relax, eat a sandwich, coz yuh ain't no gangsta real thugs love watermelons n frahd chickens ain't no thug be soundin' like he luv readin' charles dickens nigga please, yuh can't even hold a gun yuh prolly get burned when ya soak up da sun nigga yuh sound like a pansyass sissy metrosexual fo sheezy me neezy, yuh ain't no heterosexual mess wid a playa and yuh'll get a concussion coz yuh demise fo' shizzle be a foregone conclusion imma mess wid yo head n' eat yuh brain fo' breakfast and spit it out and send it all da way tuh belfast decapitation, torture, been dere dun dat go home to yo' mammy yuh wussy lil twat coz if yuh mess wid a pimp yuh gonna be a gimp for ever and ever and ever and ever peace.